


Kilt-Wearing Jon Snow

by Janina



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 23:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12376635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: based on this Tumblr prompt: Please write a JonSa fic (smut) where Jon wears a kilt. Pleaseeee! Pretty please!





	Kilt-Wearing Jon Snow

**Author's Note:**

> And THIS, made my amymel - LOVE LOVE LOVE
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/8Uncmb9)

“I feel ridiculous! I just want you all to know that I feel absolutely ridiculous!” Jon Snow yelled out from behind the changing room. On the other side of it, Gendry Waters, Arya Stark, and Jon’s girlfriend Sansa Stark were all waiting for him to exit. 

“Stop being such a grump,” Arya grumped back at him. 

Jon shoved the curtain aside and stepped out. “I’m wearing a _skirt_ , Arya. And let’s not forget the hour I spent in makeup and getting my hair done.”

“It’s not a skirt; it’s a _kilt_ ,” Gendry told him. “And you’re also wearing boots, not just the kilt.” He said the last bit as if that was supposed to make him feel better. Jon looked down at the big black boots and he had to admit that he did rather like him. Just not the kilt. 

Sansa remained quiet, and when Jon looked at her, hoping for some support in his cause, he found her licking her lips as she ran her eyes lazily over him. Hmm. Okay, well then. He straightened and rolled his shoulders back. Sansa bit her lip. 

Maybe agreeing to this photoshoot Gendry was doing for the men’s magazine that had hired him wasn’t such a bad idea. Jon had hated the idea of wearing a kilt because all he kept thinking was how he would essentially be wearing a skirt. But Arya had punched him in the arm and told him to suck it up and help her boyfriend’s first big job as a photographer, and Sansa had went on at great length about how kilts were sexy. 

He hadn’t believed her. He’d thought she was just trying to butter him up. Arya was her sister after all, and so of course she wanted to support her sister’s boyfriend. Gendry had gone on about how he had the perfect rugged look about him to pull off a kilt. Jon had tried to point out that he wasn’t Scottish and perhaps he should get an actual Scotsman to do the photoshoot. But Gendry had his mind made up, and not wanting to upset everyone involved, Jon went with it, albeit grudgingly.

Now he was thinking there was a benefit to this kilt that he hadn’t thought of if the look of lust etched on Sansa’s face was anything to go by. 

Don’t get hard don’t get hard don’t get hard, Jon told himself and looked away. 

Jon looked at Gendry and clapped his hands together eagerly. “Shall we start? Where do you want me?”

“Let’s go outside,” Gendry said and led the way with Arya following close behind. 

Sansa came up to Jon and ran her hand over his bare stomach. Jon whined and looked at her heatedly, finding himself stiffening despite his best efforts not to. “You are wearing nothing under it, right?” she purred. “Like a real Scotsman?”

Jon gulped. “I’ll take my boxers off.”

Sansa broke into a slow, predatory smile. “Good boy.”

Jon hurried into the changing room and took off his boxers, nearly tipping over as he tried to get them off over the boots, and then scrambled out of the trailer to catch up with everyone outside. 

xxxxxxxxx

The backdrop for the photoshoot was a castle that Gendry had gotten approval to use for a small fee per the Historical Society that owned it. Really, they were just excited to have the castle used to generate more business. 

The lawn in front of the castle was lush and green and Jon thought it was so perfect it almost looked fake. The wind wasn’t too strong that afternoon, which Jon was thankful for. He was pretty certain Gendry and Arya expected him to wear his boxers under the kilt, but how could he after Sansa had basically told him not to?

He was so getting some later…

Gendry placed him in front of a small stone wall with the castle behind him and began to move him about. Jon got into it, actually enjoying himself, and a huge part of that was Sansa and her obvious lustful approval. He hammed it up for her, making sure to show off the results of the brutal workouts he put his body through. He knew Sansa appreciated his six pack, his biceps, and the strength in his legs – all those things served him well for some of the more adventurous positions they put themselves in. 

By the time the shoot was over, the kilt no longer bothered him. In fact, he was planning to ask Gendry if there was any way he could keep it. 

Gendry told them he and Arya were going to snap a few shots of the castle, and so Jon tugged at Sansa’s hand and hurriedly led them back to the trailer. Jon asked the makeup artist and the hair stylists if they could please leave and after a shared smirk at one another, they left. 

Jon locked the door, turned to Sansa, and the pair practically leapt at each other. Jon lifted her – arm muscles! – and placed her on the vanity table. He kissed her hard, pushing her back against the mirror as his hands stroked up her tight black leggings. 

“I saw you watching me,” he said huskily against her lips. “My little vixen…you almost got me hard.”

“Only almost?” she murmured and reached down to sneak her hand under the kilt. “Mmmm…baby, you’re hard now….”

“I am,” he rasped. “Fuck, Sansa, I need inside you.”

“Help me get rid of these leggings,” she said urgently. 

She lifted her hips and Jon tugged on her leggings, nearly ripping them and causing Sansa to laugh. He got rid of her shoes and then yanked the leggings down the rest of the way followed by her panties. He bent down, parting her legs and licked up her slit. “Mmmm…that’s my girl. So wet for me already.”

“I’ve been wet ever since I saw you in that kilt,” she muttered, tangling her fingers in his hair as he licked and sucked at her. 

“And I had to stop myself from getting hard with the way you were looking at me,” he muttered and then licked two of his fingers and slid them inside her while he licked at her clit. 

“Fuck, Jon!” she cried. “God, right there…right – YES!”

Smirking, Jon, slowly pulled his fingers from her cunt and licked them thoroughly as he stood. She was panting and there was a pretty blush on her cheeks. 

“Let’s get rid of that shirt, baby,” Jon said and reached for the hem of her T. “I want to watch your tits bounce while I fuck you.”

“You’re such a dirty boy,” she giggled and rid herself of her shirt. She undid her bra and then flung it at him and he laughed as he caught it and threw it over his shoulder. 

He leaned in to kiss her. “I am your dirty boy.”

“Yes, you are,” she purred and slid closer to him. “Fuck me, Jon.”

Her back was slightly arched, pushing her breasts out. Her legs were spread, and her ass was perched on the edge of the vanity table. Jon ran his hands over her, wanting to feel her smooth alabaster skin. He cupped her breasts in his hands and suckled first one and then the other and then blew on the wet nipples. They were hard, and Jon sucked on them a bit more. 

Sansa was getting restless though. She slid her hand down between them and under the kilt. She ran her fingers along his length, and rolled his balls in her hand. 

“Sansa,” he gasped. 

“Fuck meeee….”

Placing himself at her entrance, he thrust forward and she gasped and clutched at his shoulders. 

Jon stroked inside her slowly at first, and then he urged her back. She leaned back against the mirror and he spread her legs further apart. He thrusted up inside her and hit the back of her cunt, causing her to groan and dig her nails in his hips. He fucked her hard then, watching as her tits bounced while he fucked her. 

“Fuck, Jon, right there,” she muttered as she slid one hand down to her cunt. She stroked his shaft gently every time he pulled out and Jon moaned. He leaned over her and sucked on her delicious tits some more. 

“You gonna cum for me, dirty girl?” he muttered as she straightened and took hold of her waist with both hands, holding her somewhat steady as he started to fuck her harder and faster. 

“I am,” she rasped. “I want you to cum on my stomach. Will you cum on my stomach, baby?”

“Fucking hell, Sansa,” he grunted and began pounding inside her. 

“I’m almost there,” she gasped. “Almost, almost, al – fuck! Yes, Jon!”

Her walls pulsed around him and Jon shut his eyes and pulled out. 

He roared as he came, unloading his hot seed on her stomach over the course of several spurts. She smiled that little vixen smile and drew her finger through his cum, gathering some up on her fingers. She licked it clean and Jon groaned. “Fuck, Sansa…” 

“Mmmm….” she moaned, and drew some more up to her mouth. 

Jon groaned and leaned over her. He didn’t care if he got his own cum on him at that point. “Fuck, Sansa, you’re so fucking hot, baby.”

She smiled and drew him closer for a kiss. “I love you, Jon,” she murmured. 

“I love you too, San, so fucking much,” he murmured back. 

“So, you’re gonna keep the skirt, right?”

"It's a _kilt_ , San, and fuck. yes."


End file.
